Flowers Pop Up
written by: Michael Shea
Grass, chlorophyll borders and boundaries to choice bestowing hue and genus gives it the edges, ridges and line.
Looks green doesn’t it?
Get down on your knees, feel it with your fingers, hands, knees and other senses you don’t often admit to.
Feels green doesn’t it?
Reach out and take a piece, pluck! Put it in your mouth and chew savouring the biting, tangy thrill of grass.
Tastes green doesn’t it?
Close your eyes and dig your fingers into it head down, and breathe deeply deep and hold 1, 2, 3 and out 2,3.
Smells green doesn’t it?
Get up, go to the fence and look over there. Go to the other fence and look there, yes the other side.
Seems green doesn’t it?
Feel the fence, is it timber or metal, feel it, smell it and taste it. Put your ear close to it hear the hum, the thrum, the drum beating like a heart.
Is it green or isn’t it?
Well? Deep, dark hole within and without of you, is it?
Obscene isn’t it that we are amongst this and not seeing it all, at all, in all its tawdry majesty.
I don’t see why you don’t see what we don’t seem to see.
Seems mean doesn’t it?